


Pandora's Box

by Lord_Lylin



Series: I'phel Nunh: A Void Mage lost in Time [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Final Fantasy XIV - Freeform, Miqo'te (Final Fantasy XIV), Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 17:47:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18596335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lord_Lylin/pseuds/Lord_Lylin
Summary: I'phel didn't choose this fate, but then again does anyone ever get the choice? Death was supposed to be final, a relished release from all the pain. Yet here he was. Many moon's have passed since she yanked him from the ether, and now everything is finally coming back.





	Pandora's Box

**Author's Note:**

> Some budding lore about I'phel Nunh, my poor miqo'te dude caught up in the WoL's tangled web of _'I don't know how to say no'_ storm.

Returning Tides

_What’s an adventurer? Well depending on who you ask, they could be a variety of different things. From money hungry thugs for hire to golden hearted hero’s out to save the world, I'phel had heard it all. Yet as far as he was concerned they were mostly just lost souls with nowhere else to go._

_Years ago, if you'd told him he'd end up one of those lost souls he would have vanished you to the void without skipping a beat. Funny how things play out._

\----------------------

With a start I'phel jolted from his sleep. Eyes opening wide full of fear, pain, and rage. Biting his tongue he tried to silence his screams as he clutched at his chest digging his claws into his skin. Beads of sweat speckled his body, making it look as if he'd just fought a long battle rather than simply awakening from a dream.

Phantom pains tore through his form tracing their way around his long-closed scars. The feeling so real and fresh it caused his muscles to twitch and contract. Tears formed at the edge of his eyes and the scream he was holding back finally escaped him. A desire to run overwhelmed him as he rolled over and tumbled from the bed. 

Slamming to the ground he slowly stilled as the room seemed to darken around him. Weakly he banged one of his hands against the floor, while his hoarse sobs echoed around the room.

His ears pressed flat against his head as he grasped for breath, his tears flowing freely down his face and neck. As they reached his chest a wave of fresh pain, different from the phantom ache, drew his attention. Glancing down at the fresh made bloody set of marks upon his chest mirroring the one’s already there, a wave of disgust and nausea washed over him. Stomach vile surged up into his throat as he quickly dragged his body across the floor, reaching for the waste bin nearby.

It had already been over two weeks since he had taken on a job that lead him and his party to a meeting with the U clan. And it had also been two weeks since the tight lid on his memories slowly began to open. After a series of dry heaving he curled up into the fetal position on the floor, the former light that had been ever present in his eyes finally dimmed. 

\----------------------

It was the words that were spoken that must have prompted everything, that much he was certain. Words that dawned his very undoing. 

_“As a Nunh, shouldn't you be with your clan?”_

The words had carried a judging almost disdainful tone, triggering a confusing and nearly unstoppable rage deep inside him. The anger awakened the sleeping darkness within, and at that time he almost challenged the questioner to a duel on the spot. 

Luckily another party member came back inside and provided him a much-needed distraction. Giving him a chance to question his sudden and seemingly random anger. Though the questions only led to more and more, with answers nowhere in sight. 

But even so, the damage was done.

The locked box had found it’s key, and through slow, two weeks later it was now fully open. 

And oh, how he wished it wasn't. 

Each night a new layer of memories came to light, and each night the nightmares grew deeper and darker. With the dream he'd just escaped from being the final nail in the coffin.

During the day he was luckier, being surrounded by the company of his new-found friends dulled the pain. Their laughter and antics made it easy for him to forget the things that haunted him and play along. To go with the flow and be the happy go lucky Sun Seeker he was expected to be. 

But in the middle of the night, within the confines of his dreams, it was a different story all together. 

He would relive everything all over again. That fateful night his budding life descended into a living hell. 

A hell he could no longer escape from.

\----------------------

_Over ten years ago, one snowy winter night…_

Laughter and singing filled the air. Two years ago today a young and sprightly Challenger had laid claim to the title of nunh. And even now two years later, the clan still celebrated the day as a time for new begins. A day to celebrate the light after nearly thirty years of darkness.  
Roaring bonfires keep the winter chill away and cast a warm glow over the many joyful faces of the clan. A sight impossible to find a mere few years ago. 

Different from most Sun Seeker clans, this small I clan was an offshoot, closer to being Keepers of the Moon. Or to be more honest, Keepers of the Void. For as long as anyone could remember, their clan hidden away in the uncanny far north, where most Sun Seekers would never dare to tread, and was a den for powerful Black Mages. 

It was tradition for all youth born into the clan with any form of compatibility with the void to be whisked away from their mothers. Brought to the large stone Mage Tower that rose from the perpetually snow cover expanse, to be raised into future harbingers of darkness. It was the norm, but it wasn’t like the children never got to visit their mother’s, and it kept the clan alive and well in the bitter cold. So, no one was complaining. 

It wasn't until the beloved elderly Nunh was struck down by a man named I'sepl, that everything began to change. 

I'sepl was a wickedly cunning man that was a mighty Dragoon with some skills in black magic, and spurred on by his ever-present need for control. The older ladies, past their childbearing prime, didn’t suit his taste and managed to piece together a ‘normal’ life. But for the younger ladies his rise to power was their downfall. 

He ruled the clan with a bloody hand and iron fist. Anyone that tried to flee, voiced any complaints, or fight back was brutally dealt with. Used as an example to others and successfully installing fear into everyone else that may wish to try.  
For thirty years, he ruled, fathered children, and brainwashed everyone into believing his way was the only way. That is until a young man, his own oldest son, decided it was time for a change. 

The boy’s name was I’phel. Born to a beautiful young mage at the peak of her power. However, his birth wasn’t a welcomed thing. Cursed with the same looks as his father, his mother couldn’t stand the sight of him. Her hatred for his father I’sepl seeping into her very core, after having been forced to carry his child. And with I’sepl having no care for children unless they could be used as tools, the boy was bitterly neglected. Left in the half hearted hands of the elder women of the clan, he spent his early days surrounded and scorned for being the spawn of a tyrant. 

That was until the mages, hidden away in their tower, heard the murmurs of the void and snatched him away one dark and silent night. Ironically I'phel was bless with an unheard-of talent for black mage teachings, most likely stemming from the combined talents of his parents. With the void practically throwing itself at his feet to fulfil his wishes.

For the next twenty-eight odd years, I’phel spent his days tucked away in the safety of the tower. Quietly hidden from the world and assumed by the clan to be long since dead. He was able to study the art of black magic without worry or need, quickly rising through the ranks before standing strongly at the top. Completely unmatched in power and skill. 

But just because he was unbothered by the outside world didn’t mean the he was ignorant of it. The exact opposite actually. The mages of the tower kept an ever watchful eye over the clan located below it. And even though they disdained to involve themselves with the lives of mortals, I’sepl wasn’t a person they could completely ignore. 

Being a former member of the Tower, I’sepl’s ways and tendencies were well known to the mages. Especially so since it was for those very things he was cast out to start with. Though they didn’t fear him, they didn’t want to start a conflict with him either. So as long as they could still bring in new children into their teachings, they chose to turn a blind eye.

But there can never be two tigers on a mountain, and as the children that could enter the tower grew less and less, the mages could turn a blind eye no longer. Having decided to take action, the mages and I’phel formed a plan. With nothing left to learn from the elder warlocks before him, it was decided that I’phel would challenge I’sepl for the right of the Nunh. Even though I’phel felt no kind feelings from the people of the village that once shunned him, he still chose to go along with the plan. 

What followed was a bloody battle the likes of with none of the clan had ever seen. Black magic and spear lights tore through the wasteland, causing the very fabric of space tremble. Like the god of destruction reborn, I’phel arose from the scorched earth victorious. The title of Nunh became his to claim. However, I’sepl quietly vanished that day, and as time passed the thought that he was still out there somewhere faded. 

In the two years that followed, I’phel was a loved leader. Without being told no one would believe that he was the son of I’sepl. Near the end of the first year he actually connected with a female close to his age that was one of the Nunh’s (before I’sepl) last children. 

Though not in love, the two grew close and as is custom before the second year a child was born. A lovely little girl with her father’s purple locks and fuzzy tail. She was basically the princess of the clan, doted on by everyone that saw her. 

More than that, she was I’phel’s whole world. Caring for the clan took on a whole new meaning after her birth. For he wanted her to grow up in a place full of love and kindness he himself never knew. 

_But fate is cruel._

Two years later, while everyone was besides themselves in celebration, from the sky a devil descended.

Mournful screams and screeched filled the air and black flames spread throughout the clan devouring everything in their wake.


End file.
